


Fantasia

by wisdomeagle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: 5 Things, Cemetery, Community: buffyverse1000, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Sexual Fantasy, Vampire Slayers, Watchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-26
Updated: 2005-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomeagle/pseuds/wisdomeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four fantasies and a reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jedi_penguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_penguin/gifts).



For Faith, it always starts and ends with Buffy.

She can't imagine it going down any other way, not when Buffy's still, well, _B_. Not when she can still toss her curls at all three of them before walking the fuck away, just leaving the library behind like she has no reason to be there. The _fuck_. Her skirt fucking _swishes_. Buffy is a movie version of California, and Faith sometimes wonders if Joyce really birthed her, or if she just made a Xerox of a page in some magazine.

But then Buffy'll do something unexpected, will get all quiet when they're walking and not want to talk about what Angel's like in bed or what Wes'd be like if he actually unjammed the stick from his rear. Buffy'll give her this look, an elaborate eye-rolling, lip-pouting thing, and Faith knows that no Xerox machine, no mad cloning scientist like she ran into in Boston, could make another Buffy. Which she's actually grateful for, in a sick way, because it means that even if she can't have Buffy, at least no one else is getting at her. The only Buffy in the world is right there by her side, hip slung up against hers in battle-ready position.

She always starts with that: the two of them crouched in a graveyard, jonesing for a kill, muscles loose, like they've been every night this week then _bam_. Buffy pivots quickly and knocks her off-balance and she reaches up. Buffy grabs her hands, and Faith darts one hand, quicker than even Buffy's instincts, so that it's touching Buffy's breast. She can almost hear the little gasp of surprise, imagines the round O of Buffy's mouth. She'd get one hand up her shirt, find one of those tiny tits that have been taunting her, and with one hand there and one on Buffy's ass, she'd make Buffy's mouth curl up, make her gasp with want.

She's not sure how Wes or Giles get involved. Wes is always sneaking around where he shouldn't be, patrolling their patrols like she hasn't been doing this for months, like Buffy isn't a vet, tsking over their reaction times and refractory periods. She'd show Wes a refractory period; she imagines doing him up against a gravestone (and he'd _like it_ , the fucking perv), sucking till he came and then not stopping, making him whine and gasp and beg. She imagines Buffy and Giles laughing in the background, Buffy's giggle muffled by Giles's cock, Giles's laughter stopped in the middle by a moan. And Wesley would say, "Please, God, Faith, just stop."

But she wouldn't, not till Buffy finished with Giles and came to her, her hips swishing like she was in a skirt and not her slaying-only jeans, and pulled her up from Wesley's long-spent dick and his quiet whimpers.

++

For Wesley, it always starts and ends with Faith.

It shouldn't. Of all the dangerous fantasies he's entertained, Faith is the most ferocious, and thinking of her -- _fantasizing_ about her -- will be a difficult habit to break. He will break it. He will cuff his arms to the headboard if he has to, to keep them away from his crotch. Mr. Giles would do it. Giles wants to restrain him anyhow; it's quite obvious from the way he rolls his eyes, the way he slouches as if to prove that even when he is untidy and lax, he is still more potent than Wesley.

There's little he needs to add to imagine sex with Faith. She is already so unconstrained, arms and legs flailing everywhere as he tries to train them, mouth heavy with lipgloss and profanity as he comes at her with a lance. Buffy is proficient with weapons and almost obedient in their training sessions, but Faith is wild, would rather drop her lance and take her chances with fists and feet. Most troubling, most arousing: she usually disarms him anyhow. Buffy will slap her hand in congratulation, and Faith will say, with a mocking, pouting laugh, "Is that how they trained you to do it at England U?"

In the fantasy she comes only one step further, and then she can touch him if she juts her hips just so, if she leans in with her right side, if she stands on tiptoe to kiss him. He tries to imagine her reaching up to him, but can't. She'll force him down, or wrap her legs around his waist, claw his shoulders with her hands, kiss him with -- she is just seventeen, ridiculously young. Better to lust after Buffy, who would certainly know better than to respond, who'd go running to Giles at the first sign of indiscretion. Buffy won't ride the whirlwind with him and Giles wouldn't let her, but Faith will drag him to her level and he will love her for it.

And he climaxes, another night. Tomorrow, he will break this habit.

++

For Giles, it always starts and ends with Wesley. With Wesley there, Buffy and Faith have been transformed into _Slayers_. He always thought of them as girls, but Wesley is capable of ignoring everything that is feminine about them. He will flirt with Cordelia Chase of all people, but hardly looks up when Faith enters the room, followed by a sweating, panting Buffy, fresh from training. Giles watches Wesley deliberately not watching them, though, and he can almost see the flaw in Wesley's pose. One good shag, and he would be a different man.

Giles has imagined this shag countless times. He'd force feed Wesley the band candy -- but that would never work; teenaged Wesley is sure to have been as prim and suffocated as adult -- and he uses the word advisedly -- Wesley. No, better to use more traditional substances, to prime Wesley with Scotch before turning him over on the central table, on his desk, on his bed, on his couch, on the kitchen counter. Everywhere becomes a place to deflower the new Watcher. He's almost frightened by the intensity of it, the quickness with which his cock will harden when he imagines Wesley sucking it.

If Faith and Buffy watched, he thinks, almost idly, they'd see that he was still -- and all the words that follow seem ridiculous. Dominant? Alpha? Their true Watcher? Perhaps he only wants to screw the Council, and Wesley is their nearest available representative. But the relationship among the four of them is more personal than that, more intimate. Buffy and Faith are not just spectators in this idle vision; they are oozing sweat as they watch; Buffy's eyes are a tad bright. Faith will show her why, fingers inching up her thigh, urging her legs apart. He must remember to blindfold Wesley first; if he looks at the girls, he'll come too soon.

Giles is certain Wesley screams when he comes.

++

For Buffy, it always starts and ends with Giles.

Okay, so not _always_ always. More like, since her birthday. Maybe, if she's totally honest about this, a little before her birthday. Definitely since before Wesley, though having two Watchers has definitely made things more -- intense? Like Slaying is actually a profession, something you actually go to Watcher School to learn about. She knew Giles had been, yeah, but that was decades ago. Wesley's Watcherness is shiny and new. That charm school finish hasn't worn off yet. Giles's style of Watching is more rugged. Rugged and manly and gentle -- this is probably the line of thought that got her fantasizing about Giles in the first place.

It was definitely before Wesley. Faith, maybe. Faith hasn't quite toppled off the cliff yet, but she kind of pushed Buffy over the minute she set her leather-booted foot in Sunnydale. Sunnydale _with_ Faith is very much not the same as it was without her. The nights are darker and the days brighter, gleaming like polished leather, like sunlight on Faith's hair, reflecting golden. Everything seems just a little bit more on edge. This is a world where Giles, chaste, celibate, old-and-gross Giles _slept with her mom_. Faith coming to town made Giles sexy. It's a total miracle.

Plus, Faith wants Giles. She talks about when they're on patrol, and that's not helping Buffy's nighttimes at _all_. There's the usual post-Slayage high, plus the added sweatiness that comes from chasing Faith's oddly attractive rear end all around town, plus this new _thing_ with Giles and then -- and then there's Wesley. Faith thinks that if they just got Wesley alone for half an hour, out of the suit and into a nice hot tub, he'd be a better lover than Giles.

But thinking about Giles as a lover, broad hands and warm legs and -- no way. Faith can have Wesley -- and from the way Faith talks, probably will -- and she'll take Giles, deep and slow, and never emerge from the goodness of it.

++

It starts and ends like this:

"It was good of you to come," Wesley says through gritted teeth. He doesn't mean it.

Faith looks past him towards the lobby. "Nice digs," she says with a whistle. "Send me away to blow up the hometown, and I come back to see _this_. Impressive."

"Well." Wesley shuffles his feet. "Buffy. Giles. It's a pleasure to see you. Wolfram and Hart will of course take care of --"

"Can we see Angel?" Buffy interrupts. "There's a busload of Slayers just waiting to take a shower."

"I could use a shower myself," Faith says, swinging her arms and almost decking Wesley. "Sorry."

"I don't think we'll be staying." Giles is focusing all his energy on glaring at Wesley. "We have nobler places to be than this."

"I suppose you must."

"Sorry." Buffy doesn't look angry, just sad, as she stares past Wesley. No one is looking at each other.

"This was a cheery reunion, huh? Nothing like having the old gang back together again, right B?"

"It was good of you to stop by, in any event. I'll be thinking of you."

"We've survived this long without you sparing a thought for us."

"Giles." Buffy puts a hand on his arm, then jerks it away hurriedly. "Let's just go. Faith, tell the others that we aren't staying after all."

"Thumbs up, B." But Faith doesn't go.

They continue to stare past each other for another minute, then laugh a little bitterly, and, without any backward glances or awkward goodbyes, they begin to go their separate ways.


End file.
